Safe Place
by armybro8
Summary: Set after the events of All Out War. Peaceful times fall over Alexandria, but runs are still necessary for maintaining survival. On this run, Jesus and Daryl set off in search of baby supplies, and end up finding a bottle of whiskey to partake in.
**Safe Place**

[[Set after the events of All Out War; just a nice safe period with no major worries.]]

A cigarette lay limply between Daryl's oil-stained fingers as he sat upon the dusty porch steps, relaxing, _finally_. Despite everything that had happened over the past several weeks, his fellow Alexandrians didn't have much trouble settling back into their regular routine of survival. Daryl had a hard time believing he was still able to sit in the same spot, sleep in the same bed, and go on about life as it had been before. It was such a strange feeling compared to the aftermath of all the other conflicts he and his family had gone through in the past. All the places they'd lived at or attempted to live at had never worked out, something always inevitably went south in the end, so he was right to assume Alexandria probably wouldn't be any different. But even after the Wolves, the walkers getting in, the Saviors…somehow this placed still remained standing. Maybe…maybe, they'd finally found a place strong enough to last. A place they can actually _live_.

Deep in his own contemplation, Daryl hadn't noticed the longhaired man in a familiar black beanie calling for him.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Jesus called, waving a gloved hand in front of Daryl's face.

Finally snapping out of his stupor, Daryl shook his head and batted Jesus' hand away. "Yeah, yeah, I'm 'ere."

"You looked awfully peaceful. What were you thinking about?"

Over the past few weeks Jesus had proven himself a more than capable ally, but he had yet to really consider him a 'friend'. "Nothin' really," Daryl grunted, flicking off the burnt end of his cigarette and taking in another smoky breath.

"Well, Rick sent me over here to see if you wanted to go on a run with me. Normally he would, but he's busy, and figured you'd be itching to go out."

"What do we need to get?"

"Maggie said she wants to be extra prepared for when the baby arrives, so she wants us to find anything we can. Clothes, toys, baby food. But we can pick up anything else potentially useful too."

Daryl looked up at the bright sky as he blew a billow of smoke and snuffed the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe. "Alright, well we better get goin'. Daylight's burnin'."

Jesus nodded and turned around to head for the gates, Daryl not far behind him. At one point Jesus had slowed down just enough to walk side by side with Daryl. The arms of Jesus' trench coat occasionally brushed against Daryl's bare arms.

"Why the hell are you wearin' that coat? And a beanie? It's like 90 today."

Jesus looked down and shrugged. "Dunno, habit I guess."

As they approached the gate, Rick and Maggie stood at the gates with the car already prepared.

"Man we're stuck with this stupid thing?" Daryl said, annoyed, tilting his head at the tiny white Prius. "I'd love to give that new truck a spin."

"This ' _thing_ ' is much better on gas, and we ain't got much of it at the moment," Rick warned. "If on the off chance you find some, we put some cans in the trunk."

"I wrote you a small list of things we haven't been able to find yet," Maggie added, handing a small, slightly crumbled sheet of yellow paper to Daryl. "Number one thing would be diapers, can never have too many of those. Baby food, formula, and actually I don't think we have any pacifiers here. Clothes are good too…but less important."

"Got it," Daryl and Jesus said in unison. Jesus cocked an eyebrow and looked at Daryl, while the brunet ignored him and turned to get in the passenger side of the car.

"Guess that means you're driving," Rick said, handing the keys to Jesus.

"No problem. We'll see you guys tonight." Jesus smiled as he waved to Rick and Maggie, climbing in the car and turning it on. The two saw them off, closing the gates solidly behind their dusty tracks.

"So what direction should we head?" Jesus asked, rolling down the window. Now that Daryl had mentioned it, it was getting hot with the beanie on.

"Dunno, maybe west?"

"You guys ever been as far west as Berryville?"

"Where the fuck's Berryville?"

"West, guess we could go there. It's about 75 miles away, close enough for a day trip. Small town, so things might not have been rummaged through as much."

"Whatever, yer the navigator," Daryl mumbled, propping his feet up on the dashboard and leaning his seat back. Whatever would've taken them only an hour prior to all this, now took probably took closer to two and a half hours now. Since it was the dead of summer, the sun didn't set until nearly 9, so they'd have plenty of time to search before they needed to head back to Alexandria.

Most of the car ride passed in amicable silence. Daryl had never been much of a talker, and was always grateful when nobody pushed him into unnecessary conversation. That was one of the best things about his relationship with his family; they could communicate so effectively, sometimes, actual speech wasn't needed. Daryl hadn't even realized he'd started to doze until Jesus unexpectedly slammed on the breaks and he was jerked awake.

"The hell?"

"Sorry, blind hill, I was going too fast. We're good," Jesus apologized, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You can go back to napping."

"I wasn't sleepin'." Daryl tried to mask his yawn with the back of his hand.

Jesus glanced at him for a second, his expression unchanged, before turning his attention back to the road. For some reason Daryl felt slightly uncomfortable having fallen asleep around Jesus, so he quickly tried to change the subject.

"How much longer are you stayin'? I thought you'd be back at the Hilltop by now."

"I thought so too. But Rick keeps asking for my help, and I keep agreeing, and…I'm not sure. I guess I miss my actual home, but Alexandria is much more homey to me. Like a real family." Jesus smiled and looked at Daryl.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, not really sure how to respond. A minute or so passed before Jesus attempted to continue the conversation.

"That's what they are to you, right? Family?"

"Yeah."

"Did you know any of them before all this?"

"No," Daryl answered quickly.

"What happened to your other family?"

In his mind, his mother was coughing as she smoked on the couch, his father was yelling at him for something or another, and Merle was smirking as he forced Daryl to fight for himself. Daryl looked out the window, watching the woods pass by. The pain from those images had long faded, mended by the love for his current family, but that didn't make them any less unpleasant when they flashed before him.

"They don't matter," Daryl muttered, not turning away from the window. Thankfully, Jesus didn't press the issue further, just hummed in agreement and slowed the car as they came to a turn.

"I think we're almost here," Jesus said a few minutes later, pulling into the parking lot of long abandoned local drug store. "Probably a long shot, but there's time for more if there's nothing here."

Daryl nodded, finally putting his feet down and straightening his chair. "Looks like it might not be too bad, it's boarded but doesn't look torn apart on the outside."

"Lots of people just fled towards D.C. when things got bad."

As he surveyed their surroundings from inside the car, Daryl caught a glimpse of Jesus combing his hair with his fingers. "What're you doin'?"

"You were right earlier, it's hotter than hell today. Even hotter with all this hair."

Jesus finished brushing and pulled a hair tie from his wrist. As he pulled his hair back, his pale neck became exposed, and Daryl felt the inexplicable urge to run his tongue up it and taste his salty skin. _What the fuck was that,_ Daryl thought. A small flush rose to his cheeks as he turned away quietly and opened up the door. A few seconds later Jesus stepped outside as well, blond locks now neatly tucked away in a bun and trench coat discarded in the back seat.

"Good?" Jesus asked, starting to lower his voice in case they weren't alone. He fixed the belt around his hips, feeling around to make sure his blade was quickly within reach, and the loaded pistol not far away.

"Yup." Daryl still hadn't gotten his crossbow back from Dwight, but Jesus had promised he would work on it for him, since he knew Dwight better. For the time being, he was working with his trusty hunting knife, and a small handgun for emergencies.

They approached the door quietly and knocked on it, hoping to stir whatever might be on the inside. When they failed to hear any shuffling footsteps or muffled groans, Jesus attempted to pull the door open, but it was chained from the inside. "Shit," he whispered.

"We got bolt cutters, should fit through the crack." Daryl ran back to the car and grabbed them. "Hold the door open."

Jesus held the doors as far apart as he could as Daryl snuck the clippers in between them and cracked the chains apart. They landed on the floor with a ridiculously loud clack and the duo flinched at the noise by reflex. They held their position for another minute to be sure there was no one inside.

"Don't think anyone is in the main shop," Jesus commented. Daryl nodded and they each opened one side of the doors, a heavy, musty smell attacking them as they entered. Yellow light leaked through the cracks where the windows hadn't been fully boarded, letting enough sun in that at that time of day, flashlights weren't necessary.

"Wow," Jesus breathed, amazed at how well intact the place was. "Whatever went on here, it didn't go on long."

The air was stale from being trapped, but half of the store was still untouched. It was a small town drugstore, so that wasn't saying much, but they'd find plenty useful here. _Maybe the chains had deterred people from entering?_

"Aisles look clear," Jesus whispered, nearing the back of the store. "But _someone_ chained themselves in. Stay alert." Daryl nodded and they kept their backs facing each other.

Suddenly, there was a loud rustle from behind the door that read "MANAGER", like a desk being pushed, then that familiar growl.

Daryl stepped closer to the door and grabbed the handle, allowing Jesus to get into place before pulling it open. The air inside that room was choking, but nothing they'd never experienced before, and the cause of the noise turned at the creak of the door, gurgling.

In a quick flash, Jesus had stabbed the walker in the head and it went down like a sack of potatoes. He promptly scanned the room for more, but came up empty.

"Guess it was just 'im," Daryl commented, kicking his leg out of the way. _Seems too easy_ , he almost said, but didn't want to jinx them. Sometimes it was okay if things went their way. "Alright, let's get to it."

At the front of the store there were several shopping baskets, so they grabbed some before setting off in opposite directions to cover as much ground as they could.

"Holy shit, they still have medicine," Jesus breathed, turning an aspirin box over in his hand. He then used his entire arm to shove the shelf into his basket. "I don't care if they're expired or what, it's better than nothing."

Daryl checked the baby aisle, relieved to find it was still well stocked. He grabbed everything that he could and eventually had to call Jesus over to help him carry the dozen or so packs of diapers to the car.

"Guess havin' babies was the last thing on people's minds when they came here," Daryl commented, shoving the last diaper pack in the car. "Shit, I'll have to give Rick hell about making us take this dinky little thing, I don't know if we can fit everything we found in here."

"We'll make it fit."

It had taken them the better part of an hour, but eventually the trunk and backseat were packed to the hilt. To make sure they weren't forgetting anything major, the two made another through of the store.

"Hey, you'll never guess what I found!" Jesus called from the manager's room before he emerged carrying a bottle of whisky, more than three quarters of the way full. "There was about a dozen empty ones, but it looks like he barely touched this one." Jesus smiled as he turned the bottle over in his hand and cocked an eyebrow. "There's a couch in the break room next to this one. A little treat for our trouble?" As if he needed to ask, already unscrewing the top.

"Why not," Daryl mumbled, taking the cigarette he'd been about to light out from between his lips. As they walked back into the small room he took the bottle from Jesus, unscrewed the top and took a long swig. The burn was sweet but inevitably overpowering, and he couldn't hold back his cough.

Taking the bottle from him, Jesus followed suit, taking a much smaller sip since he knew he had to be present enough to drive within a reasonable amount of time. It might've been the end of the world and no cops would be out to arrest him for a DUI, but he still wanted to make sure everything they found got back to Alexandria safely.

They both sank into the couch, trading the bottle back in forth. Jesus figured it wouldn't take long for Daryl to feel the effects having not eaten lunch, so he waited a few minutes before stirring up conversation.

"So, does Rick know? About you?"

Daryl paused his drink to shoot a confused look at the other man. "Know what?"

Maybe he'd spoken too soon, but it was too late now. He took a shot. "You know, that you're gay."

Daryl scoffed and took another drink. "No, he doesn't, 'cause 'm not gay."

"Really?" His tone was low and unbelieving. Daryl nodded as he handed back the now half-empty bottle. Jesus scooted a little closer, not enough for Daryl to notice. "Then what's kept you in this closet of denial?"

Lighting his cigarette, Daryl pretended to not hear what Jesus had said.

"Was it that family you refuse to talk about?" In the back of his mind, Jesus knew he was probably going too far, but he was also hoping that Daryl was too far gone to be offended by his question. He hadn't had as much to drink as Daryl but he could already feel the effects of the whiskey clouding his judgment. If he hadn't, he probably wouldn't have had the balls to bring it up again.

Eyes narrowing, Daryl blew out a puff of smoke. "Fuck you," he growled, refraining from punching him right in his smug fucking face.

"I'd love that actually." Jesus slid closer again, this time enough for Daryl to notice and react.

"So that's why you were wonderin' about me?" Daryl craned his neck back as if to analyze him. He narrowed his eyes, unsure.

Shrugging, Jesus took another swig, coughing as he took a little extra, hoping to make this conversation easier. Despite his confident demeanor, it'd been a really long time since he'd confessed to someone. "Yeah, you're hot. Strong and silent has always been my type."

Daryl took another long drag on his cigarette and tilted his neck to blow it upwards. He remained silent until just the butt was left, and he flicked it onto the floor. "Never actually told anyone," he grumbled, just barely loud enough for Jesus to hear.

"I see…"

Silence ensued for several long moments. Daryl was the one to break it.

"I think m'brother knew, though."

"How?"

"He was bi; he fucked anything that would fuck 'im." Daryl shifted on the couch and thought for a moment. "I dunno, the way he talked to me sometimes, I just had a feelin'."

Jesus shifted on the couch so that he was half sitting on his knee and his arm was draped across the back of the couch. "So, you never told anyone." Jesus started stroking the ends of Daryl's dark brown hair very gently. "That mean you never been with anyone, either?"

The touch was light enough for Daryl not to flinch at it like he normally would've, but he still couldn't bring himself to look at Jesus as he spoke. "Guess you never 'spected someone like me to be a lame-ass virgin, huh?"

Blue eyes widened at the admission, but Jesus quickly softened his gaze. "Hey," he spoke softly, moving his hand to Daryl's cheek and turning it towards him. They were close enough to feel each other's warm breath. "Nobody cares about that kinda shit in the new world."

Maybe it was the whiskey, _it was definitely the whiskey_ , but Daryl never attempted to pull away from Jesus' touch. Very few people had been so intimate with him, and none of them had ever meant it in a romantic way. It was a foreign feeling, but…not unwelcome. Daryl swallowed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the moment.

It only took a second for Jesus to close that short distance between them, capturing Daryl's lips between his own for a light peck, not wanting to overwhelm him; he had a feeling he'd be doing plenty of that later. The kiss lasted only a second, and when Daryl didn't attempt to turn away, Jesus took that as an invitation to continue.

Their second kiss was similar to the first, timid and questioning, but lasting longer and asking if it was okay to push it further. Each kiss that ensued got deeper and deeper until Jesus' tongue finally pushed it's way into Daryl's mouth. Daryl flinched at first and he thought about pulling away, but Jesus had threaded his fingers through his dark locks, preventing him from moving much. The sensation was odd but it didn't take long for Daryl to start enjoying it. One of his hands rose from their spot to rest on Jesus' lower back, rubbing small circles.

Jesus finally pulled away a few minutes later, a small trail of their saliva bridging the gap before snapping. Out of breath, he reached up and pulled his bun out, taking the opportunity to climb onto Daryl's lap. He smiled at the slight but noticeable hardness trapped beneath the denim.

"You okay with this happening?" Jesus inquired, rubbing the large exposed muscles on Daryl's arms. He leaned closer, "There's no going back after this," he breathed against Daryl's ear, biting the lobe before pulling back to hear his answer.

"I don't care anymore, I…" Daryl paused for a few seconds. "…want it." His voice was barely a whisper. He couldn't deny that he hadn't thought about it before, he just had a hard enough time admitting it to himself. Whiskey made things so much easier.

Not bothering to respond, Jesus captured his lips again for a deep kiss, pushing his hips into Daryl's muscular stomach. The kiss lasted only a minute before Jesus pulled back, undoing the buttons on his plain white shirt. Daryl's head was still spinning from the alcohol and kissing, so by the time he'd realized Jesus' shirt was off, the longhaired man had pulled off his shirt as well. Jesus' gloves had also become part of the discarded pile of clothes on the floor.

Now topless, Jesus took a moment to enjoy the feeling of their hard, bare chests pressed together, combing his bare hands through Daryl's thick, smooth hair. It was softer than he'd imagined despite how dirty the man always seemed to be.

The alcohol must've hit full effect in his system, because at that moment Daryl didn't care as he reached around and grabbed Jesus' round ass in his hands, squeezing and kneading. At the touch Jesus smirked and kissed him again, grinding their hips into each other. The movement finally elicited a moan from Daryl's throat and he broke away from the kiss.

Jesus decided to slowly make his way down Daryl's body, pausing when he figured out the base of his throat was particularly sensitive. He alternated between kissing and biting the same area. The back of his mind, the sober part, told him at one point that he probably shouldn't leave visible marks like that, but the thought was immediately swept away by the lust overtaking him.

While he did this, he made quick work of Daryl's belt buckle and jeans. He pulled them open and met Daryl's eyes briefly as he pulled away and lowered himself onto his knees in front of him.

Daryl took a deep breath; the whiskey was heightening the intensity of everything he was feeling. The room felt suddenly too light as Jesus exposed him, but he didn't have enough time to feel embarrassed before a pair of wet lips descended upon him.

"Mmn… _fuck_ ," Daryl breathed. The feeling was foreign, odd; not at all what he'd expected. It was fucking _phenominal._ He'd closed himself off to a lot of sexual thoughts and feelings in the past, but now that the gate had been opened, everything came flooding through all at once.

With a hand firmly at the base, Jesus trailed light kisses up the shaft before enclosing the head in his mouth. He paid special attention to the underside of the head with his tongue, massaging and lapping in circles. After spending a minute or two there, he started bobbing his head, pumping his hand to meet his lips.

Since Daryl wasn't used to such stimulation, which was jut heightened under the influence, it didn't take long for him to be on the edge. "'m gonna…" he managed to breathe out, starting to arch his back.

Jesus quickly pulled away, leaving a hand at the base and squeezing to make sure he didn't come. He climbed back on Daryl's lap, unzipping his own pants. "You give much thought about what you'd prefer?"

"Prefer?" Daryl asked, dazed, not sure what he was talking about. His thoughts were muddled and his heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his ears.

"Top or bottom," Jesus elaborated, bringing Daryl's hand to touch him. Daryl started stroking the soft skin, rubbing the head with his palm.

"I dunno…" As the waves of pleasure ebbed away, the brunet brought his other hand down to touch himself and Jesus simultaneously. Shamelessness be damned.

"Well, it might put you off if your first time is painful, so…I'll let you top. _This time_."

Daryl's hand dropped off as Jesus stood, letting his cargo pants drop to the floor. His underwear quickly followed and he climbed back on Daryl's lap, but not before grabbing a small bottle out of one of his pant pockets.

"Wha's that?"

"Lube," Jesus answered, spreading some onto his fingers. "Had a huge rack of it here, luckily." He grimaced as he slid a finger in, trying to prepare himself for what was coming next.

Daryl wasn't really sure what to do as he watched Jesus straddle him, one hand behind his back and the other propping himself up against the couch. He decided _what the hell_ and brought a warm palm up to Jesus' leaking cock again. When Jesus gasped at the contact and involuntarily bucked into his touch, Daryl closed his hand around him and started pumping.

With the added stimulation from Daryl, Jesus found it easier to add another finger and move them around, trying to stretch as much as possible. "Don't stop," Jesus breathed, removing his fingers. He spread a bit more lube onto his hand so he could slick down Daryl, moving in to kiss him as they jerked each other off for a few short moments.

Pulling away reluctantly, Jesus moved forward, holding Daryl's dick still in his hand as he lowered himself onto it. His face twisted into discomfort as he started to lower himself. The pain was dulled by Daryl's swift hand and the intoxication, but not gone entirely. He ended up having to stop part of the way down to take a few deep breaths, which just made Daryl feel guilty about putting him through such obvious distress. There wasn't anything he could say though, so he just quickened the pace of his hand and pulled the slighter man down to kiss him.

Jesus was thankful for the distraction, because his hips and thighs had also started to burn from holding the same position for an extended period of time. Despite all the burning in his lower half he continued to lower himself, grimacing and biting down on Daryl's bottom lip harder the lower he went. When he was finally all the way down he let go, not realizing he'd been biting so hard, although Daryl hadn't complained.

"t's really tight," Daryl breathed, rubbing his sore bottom lip with his tongue.

"You're tellin' me." The feeling was getting better by the minute, but it'd been so long since Jesus had done it, it may as well had been the first time for him too.

"t's good…" Daryl bucked his hips upward reflexively, but stopped when Jesus grunted in pain. "Sorry."

"It's fine, I'll be fine in a minute." Jesus took another deep breath and brought his hands up to Daryl's stubbly cheeks, kissing his bottom lip where he'd been biting. After a minute of this, Jesus broke away and began grinding his hips downward, moaning as the slight pain that still remained melted into a sea of pleasure.

Daryl began thrusting his hips upward to meet Jesus' as the other man began sliding up and down, keeping the same inward grinding motion. It didn't take long for their slow pace to become a fast mess, hips meeting hips, flesh slapping against each other. At one point Jesus brought one of Daryl's hands that had been resting on his slender hips to his front again. Daryl took the hint and grasped the length firmly, his rhythm was uneven but Jesus didn't seem to care as he let out a moan from deep in his throat.

They continued like that for a few minutes, lazily kissing while sliding their hands over bare slick skin. Finally, Daryl got annoyed by his lack of leverage, and stopped his movements. Jesus pulled away and opened his eyes, clouded with lust and questions. "Lay down," Daryl instructed, directing Jesus' hips upward.

The other man understood and gradually slid their bodies apart before lying back on the couch. Earlier he had been thankful the couch was clean, albeit dusty; but at that point he didn't have enough awareness left to care if it wasn't. He lifted his legs to wrap them around Daryl's hips as the brunet brought them together again.

"Fuck," Jesus gasped, this intrusion not nearly as painful as the last, but still surprising. Daryl noticed but was too driven by lust to pause, so he began moving back and forth, picking up their original pace. The longhaired man was grateful for their new position because he could finally relax and take things into his own hands. He brought his knees closer into his chest to give Daryl a better angle to hit that sweet spot more precisely, crying out when it was finally struck.

Daryl let out a deep groan when Jesus tightened around him; he knew he wouldn't last much longer at that rate. Suddenly, Jesus was throwing his head back and he could feel his hand pumping rapidly between them. "Fuck," Jesus cried as a warm liquid splashed onto their chest. Daryl followed not long after, burying his face into Jesus' neck in the hopes that the other man wouldn't hear him.

His body feeling too heavy for his arms to support any longer, Daryl collapsed onto Jesus' worn out body. He lifted his hips to separate them where they were joined.

"Goddammit, Daryl Dixon…" Jesus breathed a laugh, bringing an arm around his head to prop himself up. "For never doing this before, you didn't do half bad. No complaints."

"Better not be."

Once Daryl caught his breath, he pushed himself up and fixed his pants. His vision darkened for the moment when the blood rushed back to his head, but he didn't care as he searched around for his shirt and vest. In the back of his mind, he was reminded of the scars on his back and had no desire to discuss them. Then he remembered the stickiness on his chest.

Hoping Jesus wouldn't notice his back, Daryl darted over and grabbed the box of tissues sitting on the table and cleaned himself off quickly. Once he was fully clothed, Daryl tossed Jesus' bundle of clothes at the other man. Jesus sat up and winced at the feeling running through him as well as the feeling of tacky liquid on his chest.

"Uh, Daryl, mind getting me some tissues too?"

Daryl tossed the box of tissues he'd used over to him. Jesus might've still been drunk, but he was aware enough to be embarrassed about cleaning himself in front of someone else. "Can you also get me some water from the car? I think we're both dehydrated."

"Sure." With that, Daryl turned in left, leaving Jesus to redress himself. By the time he'd found the water in the car, Jesus was already outside with him, hair back in a bun and clothes on as if nothing had happened. Daryl handed him a bottle and they sat on the hood of the car, drinking.

"Back'ere you said, 'there's no goin' back after this'…" Daryl trailed off and looked at Jesus through his curtain of hair. No doubt he was still drunk, although the sex seemed to make it burn through his system faster. He felt a lot more aware than he did just a few minutes ago inside the building.

"I wasn't going to let you run away halfway through if you chickened out," Jesus laughed, taking a swig. He was silent for a minute. "But…I'd also like it if we didn't go back to being 'just acquaintances' after this."

"I dunno if I can make any promises," Daryl mumbled, honestly. He'd never been in any sort of romantic relationship before and the prospect of it scared him a little.

"I know; you're new to this. That's okay," Jesus reassured. "We can take it slow. I just want to get to know you more." Jesus reached out and touched Daryl's cheek with his re-gloved hand, missing the feel of his rough stubble. Daryl looked down but didn't flinch or move away. He only left his hand there for a moment before moving in to kiss him lightly.

"Really slow," Daryl said, voice low and gruff.

"Really slow," Jesus agreed, sliding off the hood of the car but stumbling. He laughed, "Okay, maybe we'll stay for a few more minutes before I try to drive." Finally, he saw Daryl crack the faintest true smile as he agreed and patted the spot next to him.

[[I know in 6.14 Daryl actually did end up getting his crossbow back, but I wrote that entire section prior to that episode, so I'm just leaving it as it is.]]

I don't use beta readers, so I apologize for any mistakes. I read through my work multiple times before I post it, but I still miss things. Let me know if I do!


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